To Ask
by Elen-Silver Star
Summary: Little Tadion (and Thranduil) learns an important lesson on the importance of considering others. Of asking. Same as the story 'To Give' this short piece might later be added to Greenwood the Great. Set before Almarëa and Elerrina


**Just a little one shot story here : )**

"ADA!" The mirthful cry of the child's laughter made his head turn immediately in the direction as he walked out of the Council Room, landing on the little figure of his youngest son dashing in his direction as fast as his feet could take him.

He barely had time to register it. Alarya's emerald eyes widened at the elfling's cry, her delicate arms stretching frantically in an effort to get a grip of her young son. He had less than a second to prepare himself, his eyes partially widening in horror as he noticed the sticky substance smeared in his son's hands, attempting to catch the elfling before he could- too late.

A negligible weight collided against his legs, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his knees, hands gripping at his elegant formal robes as a chorus of loud carefree giggles sung merrily in the air. The King of Mirkwood let out a defeated sigh, absently noticing the warm silent laughs of the rest of Council Members as they slowly exited the grand piece. His robes. His perfectly pristine silver robes that he had _just_ changed into now spotted a full collection of sticky strawberry jam handprints. At least today he had time to change before his next meeting.

Surrendering himself to the situation, the Elvenking let his eyes drop down to find a pair of large bright eyes of the same ice blue color as his very own, except the child's were all too full of joy and life. The tiny elfling grinned widely back at him, rosy cheekbones flushing from his previous sudden rush, his small chin resting against his father's knees and throwing back in order to look at up at him. And nothing could have stopped him from smiling widely, from immediately picking up his little hurricane of energy in his arms, deciding that there nothing else that could be done for the state of his already jam smeared robes.

And as if to prove his point, the elfling's arms immediately curled around his shoulders, leaving new sticky handprints all over the upper parts of his robes and then through his hair. Still it was all worth the beautiful sound of his son's delighted giggles.

"Tadion!" Her heard his wife trying to scold, but she could have fooled no one with that bright grin on her face, trying – and failing- to suppress her laughter as she shook her head in defeat, reaching his side. "Look at the mess you have left over your Ada's robes!"

And yet his little bundle of destruction did not seem remorseful at all, simply intent in having fun. With only once glance at Alarya he discovered that she was almost head to toe covered in jam handprints and messy smears, indicating that she had obviously just made Tadion eat his lunch, still carrying a silken –seemingly useless really- napkin in her hands.

However, the second his mother tried to clean his hands with the pristine napkin, the elfling started squirming and kicking in his arms.

"Put me down! Put me down!" His young son demanded in between giggles, making Alarya give out an exasperated sigh. The King of Mirkwood once again complied, gently placing the energetic child back on his feet as he surrendered himself to the realization that he had once again lost his son's attention. He let out a silent chuckle as Tadion started running circles around him in an attempt to escape Alarya's arms –still trying to pry her son and clean his hands. So that was it: Yell for Ada, get his robes all dirty, love him for all of two seconds, and then off to something more interesting.

"Ar! Ar!" Tadion suddenly cried out as his little feet ran now towards a new destination, and he lifted his eyes in order to find the tall figure of his firstborn son patiently exiting the Council Room.

Arahaelon too was given a warning of two seconds, but he somehow managed to be quicker and grasp his brother's little wrists in a single fluid move, allowing Alarya to finally – and quickly- wipe the little fingers with the napkin. But Tadion seemed to barely have noticed –or even care for that matter- as his full attention was now directed towards his older brother, the latter picking him up and depositing over his shoulders, the tiny elf demanding to go outside and play.

A warm smile grew o his face at the sight, watching at his two sons who could not be more different from the other. Valar, Arahaelon had been _easy_ compared to Tadion, he had mostly – yet not always- listened to what he was told, and had been a quieter sweet elfling never causing too much trouble. And Tadion…..he let out a small laugh again. Tadion had four nursemaids aiding Alarya who he was sure were currently asking Eru what it was they had done to deserve their post. And still, it seemed that no matter how many maids he appointed to the care of his youngest son the latter would _always_ find a way to evade them. He was so quick…even in his witty comments and excuses he was quick, always making the task of scolding him incredibly hard as he had to try not to laugh and sound stern.

Even the way they learned the world around them was so incredibly opposite. He had gotten used to Arahaelon's carefully watchful eyes, missing nothing around him, sometimes even noticing more than he himself could. Even when he had taught his firstborn son how to use the bow, Arahaelon had asked for him to go first, and had watched him deeply for a couple of tries, picking up on everything that he was doing, and latter repeating the same motions from memory. And Tadion….Tadion learned through trial and error. He did not want _anyone_ telling him how things were done, he would have to first cut himself accidentally before he finally listened to anyone who might have been warning him that the blade was sharp. And still, his youngest son seemed to have no fear –or sense of danger for that matter- as he was often found sneaking away from whoever was watching him and jumping in the ponds, climbing alarmingly high on the trees or once even having found his own sword and caught playing with it – things that gave him and Alarya small heart attacks almost daily.

Still, Tadion _adored_ Arahaelon, even a few times over his own Ada, and he did not blame him. His older brother was not the elf who told him when to go to bed, scolded him when he had acted wrongly, denied him sweets when he had had too many, or had to give him any education in any sense. For Tadion Arahaelon meant only fun.

"I want to go riding!" Tadion suddenly exclaimed in between his giggles, his little hands grabbing at his brother's head as to not fall from where he was sitting over his shoulders. "Please, Ada? Pleeeease? Can I go riding with Ar?"

The Elvenking tried to pretend that he was thinking about it, but who was he kidding, he could have never denied such a request from those bright and lively large blue eyes that would smile even through the darkest of storms. He threw one glance at his eldest son, only to find him looking at his father almost hopeful and he almost laughed at the manner in which, although unknowingly, Tadion was saving his brother from having to attend yet another meeting soon. And even though technically his eldest son _should_ attend the coming meeting he already knew he would allow him to skip it this time, feeling sympathetic for Arahaelon who had just stood two and a half hours in a Council Meeting where his only task had been to watch and sit by his father. Valar even _he_ would skip the next meeting if he could.

"It is all right by me." He complied, having to speak over his little son's merry chuckles. "But you need to ask Arahaelon if he will be willing take you riding first." He always made it a point to remind Tadion to _ask_ his brother for things, learning that partially due to Arahaelon's seemingly endless patience –and Tadion's apparent lack of it- his youngest son had gotten into the habit of knowing that his eldest brother would mostly always comply to his request. And he knew that Arahaelon was always happy to comply, always eager to make his younger brother smile, never minding it even when Tadion abused of his patience.

"Ar will take me." His young son replied knowingly, and he had to contain a small chuckle before he pressed again. Oh he _knew_ Arahaelon would take him even if only to be allowed to skip the afternoon meeting.

"I want to hear you asking."

"Ar, would you take me riding?" Tadion asked as if it was the easiest thing in the world, that bright smile still on his face as his eyes looked admiringly at his eldest brother.

"Of course." Came the expected reply, the elfling squealing in delight as he once again kicked to be put down, grabbing at Arahaelon's hand and pulling him in a rush the second his feet touched the marble floor, trying to make his brother walk faster.

He followed them closely behind, letting his arm slide around Alarya's thin waist as she joined him, silently making the long way down to the Palace's stables. Once the stallion had been properly saddled and his eldest son had already mounted he carefully bent down to lift the little elfling and sat him in front of his older brother.

"Hold tight." His ice blue eyes emphasized his words as he threw a long look at his youngest son, knowing that the elfling was only partially listening. Even though he knew Tadion would be perfectly safe, the tiniest chance of anything ever happening to him was enough to send his parent instincts into an overprotective fright. "And listen to what your brother says."

"Yes, Ada." Came the little child's reply without really even turning to look at him. But of course his son would not pay attention: here was Ada _again_ warning him about things and delaying his fun.

"Only up to the river" He let his eyes turn to his eldest son this time, emphasizing the limit that he knew Arahaelon was already aware of. And then they were off, the elfing's delighted cry's echoing and disappearing in the distance and dancing in the gentle breeze.

And Iluvatar did he envy his eldest son for begin able to skip the afternoon meeting. If he had thought the Council meeting in the morning had bene long, he had completely changed his mind about that by the time his afternoon meeting was over. He was exhausted. And above anything he most certainly did _not_ want to see _any_ of his Advisors until at least a day or two.

The Sun was already setting by the time he was allowed to return to his family, the bright red rays washing over the Palace's endless hallways. Perhaps he could still meet Arahaelon at the main courtyard before he left for his scheduled Patrol. He knew Alarya would be there to watch him off. She always was.

And this time was no different, he noticed, as his eyes fell on the delicate figure of his wife standing below the dying rays of the sun in the main courtyard, holding an inconsolably crying Tadion by the hand as she tightly embraced her eldest son. He reached her side in long strides, waiting patiently for Arahaelon to mount his horse before approaching him, trying to push back the nagging fear that always gave him to watch his son armed with sword and bow and about to spend the next two nights patrolling the forest as was his duty. When had he grown up? And yet the only thing that served to only minimally calm him was the fact that Arahaelon was still too young to lead the patrols himself, meaning that there would be a Captain – apart from the other guards- watching over him. This was barely his son's fourth patrol, but still he worried as if it was his very first one.

"Be Careful." Was all he said, but he could not say those words enough times as his eyes met his son's emerald ones, the exact color of Alarya's. He knew he had nothing to worry about. His son would be well looked after, and besides Arahaelon's powers would allow him to perceive any approaching danger far before even the Captain could. The forest would warn him. The forest would protect him. And still he worried. And he knew Alarya would not sleep for the next two nights, and there would be nothing he could do to lessen her worry.

His eldest son only gave him one reassuring smile, nodding his head once before guiding his mount to follow the rest of the already departing guards and young warriors, and he was forced to catch and pick up a suddenly dashing Tadion, the elfling having managed to squirm himself out of his Nana's gentle hands.

"I want to go too!" The small child sobbed uncontrollably in between hiccups, little fists rubbing at his eyes as if to clear his vision between his big fat tears, one little arm curling around his father's neck. "I want to go with Ar!"

His heart once again sank at his son's heartbroken cries, even if the waterworks occurred every single time Arahaleon had left for a patrol. And it once again tore at his own heart to have to remind his crying elfling that he was too young to be able to go yet, that one day he would be allowed to go too. And oh, Valar, please let that day never come. Let his little elfling stay his bright and joyful little bundle of endless laughter and trouble.

"But- I - want – to- go - with -Ar!" Tadion kept crying inconsolably, hiccupping adorably, not even able to speak the full the sentence without the words being interrupted by sobs. Little arms wrapped tightly around his neck and he felt the small head bury in his shoulder, fat tears soaking through the rich fabric of his burgundy robes.

"Your brother will be here in two days, little one." He tried to comfort the crying child but he knew it was to no avail. Two days seemed an eternity for an elfling, even if he knew that Arahaelon's absence would be forgotten by the child come morning and he found another way to entertain himself with his many toys.

And just as he had known his words did nothing to calm the child who kept sobbing and crying all the way back through the intricate corridors and hallways and into his bedchamber. With a silent motion of the hand, the King of Mirkwood dismissed the small army of maids that were dutifully waiting in the young Prince's bedchambers, deciding that this night he would accompany his heartbroken son until he fell asleep. But Tadion did not let go of him even when he tried to lower him onto the overly large bed, tiny arms that felt too frail and delicate only tightening around his neck.

Instead, he lowered himself to sit on one of the many comfortable cushioned chairs in the room, cradling the crying child on his lap as he rocked him slowly. It took many hours until finally his precious son succumbed to his exhaustion, his quieting sobs extinguishing entirely in the even slow breaths of sleep.

And come morning it was as if nothing had ever happened, his young son once again his bright and joyful self, never running out of energy, out of laughter. He was not surprised when the large doors of his study were thrown open, little feet pattering on the ornate carpet as he made his way to the ample space by the fireplace. Normally he would have reminded his son to knock the door when he was working, -even if he would never deny him access he needed to teach his son proper protocols- but decided that this morning he could make an exception. After all he had managed to convince Alarya into sleeping in this morning, as she had barely slept at all during the night, her eyes constantly drifting in the direction of their large balcony and towards the forest outside. He did not even want to image how much she would worry once Tadion too was old enough to join the patrols, both of her sons spending nights out of the Palace.

That left the care of Tadion to his four appointed maids- and of course the child had once again managed sneak away from them. His eyes almost immediately flew to his son, watching the child joyfully throwing himself on the carpet by the fire, smiling as he spread out a collection of wooden toy warriors, his little hand securely carrying a—wait a second. His eyes immediately recognized the beloved object that had barely ever left his eldest son's grasp when he had been an elfling.

"My son?" large azure eyes turned instantly at his words, the many wooden warriors momentarily forgotten. "Is that your brother's bow?" He framed it as a question even though he perfectly well knew the answer.

He and Alarya had gifted Tadion his own little toy bow the past Winter's Solstice, but it seems that _nothing_ could take away the tempting allure of that old toy bow which was not his. Still his son smiled sheepishly at him, that gorgeous guilty yet mischievous grin that almost made him forgot to finish where he was going, rising an eyebrow high in his forehead, waiting for an answer.

"Yes" Tadion's voice was low, that adorable –yet he knew not to trust- guilty expression on his eyes as the child clasped the toy bow against his chest, as if it would be snatched from his hands.

"Did you ask Arahaelon if you could use his bow while he was absent?" He gently questioned the child even though he already knew the answer. He did not dare call the bow a 'toy bow', already knowing where that conversation lead to.

"He always lets me use it." Came the expected reply, once again having no trouble in answering honestly. Still the precious elfling had such an open and easy personality, never shy of talking with anyone that because mostly everyone complied to his wishes he needed to make sure his son understood the importance of asking.

"But did you ask him for permission before he left?" And one again it was hard to maintain a firm face at his son's smiling bright blue eyes, the child messily brushing away some strands of his soft baby hair from his face, his expression turning mischievously guilty once more.

"No." His son admitted swaying softly from side to side, rocking as he pressed the bow tighter to his chest. His little sunrise was witty and quick and always getting into trouble, but had never been a liar.

"Then you need to return it to its place, little one." He knew that his eldest son would have gladly allowed Tadion to play with his still beloved bow, having no more need for it himself, but he needed to also make his youngest son understand that he should ask others before taking their things.

"But-"

"No buts." He raised an eyebrow once more, even if his lisp offered his son a warm smile. "Return it to its place and when your brother returns ask him to use it. I am sure he will let you."

"Will you carry me?" Oh the elfling knew _when_ to ask in order to manipulate his father, and he once knew he would comply, if only so that he could hear those carefree innocent giggles and that bright smile that only meant trouble, picking the weightless child in his arms and carrying out of the room and in the direction of his eldest's bedchambers. His work would have to wait momentarily.

"Where did you take it from?" He asked softly as they entered the large piece, Tadion's azure eyes roaming around the room as if he was in a magical place full of alluring objects.

"There" His youngest son pointed towards the lowest set of drawers at one corner of the spacious chamber, and he let the child down on the floor, watching him rush in his little feet in the direction of the heavenly crafted piece of furniture. His eyes danced across the room he knew so well, absently listening as Tadion pulled open the heavy drawer and clumsily deposited the toy bow inside.

Yet, something in his firstborn son's desk had caught his attention, the King of Mirkwood silently crossing the room in its direction, lips curving on a smile as his eyes landed on a large half-way finished charcoal drawing. It was beautiful, every detail perfectly depicted, the picture of a large tree canopy almost appearing to be swaying in its realism. He had seen Arahaelon sitting at his desk working on it for many nights by now, and his son had seemed so proud of this drawing. It looked close to being finished.

A little hand reached up to grab at the drawing and for the first time he noticed that his youngest son had moved to stand right beside him, clear blue eyes looking in awe at the depicted picture, standing on the tip of his toes in order to reach.

"No, no, no. No touching." He reacted quickly, gently grabbing Tadion's little wrists and preventing him from touching the drawing. The charcoal would smear easily. Instead he picked the elfling up in his arms once more, allowing him a better view of the image. "I know Arahaelon has asked you not to touch it, I have heard him. It will get easily stained, and you know it means a lot to him."

The tiny elfling only nodded his head, even though his eyes continued to gaze in wonder at the picture. And he should have guessed then that the alluring temptation would not have so easily vanished.

He carefully placed his son back down, gently combing his hand through the shoulder length pale strands of soft hair, even if he knew it would be useless as the child would once again run around and get himself spectacularly untidy.

"Why do we not go to your chambers and find your own bow?" He crouched down to be at the elfling's eyelevel. There were no elflings of his son's age in Mirkwood, and with Lossenel in Lorien and Arahaelon gone for the moment, he feared the child might be feeling lonely.

"Then we can go to the gardens and shoot some of your toy arrows." He proposed, mentally making a note to notify Doronor to cancel all of his afternoon meetings.

"YES!" Almost immediately his son's face lit up with excitement, another round of mirthful laughter filling the room. He would have to catch up with his paper work and reports later that night, but for the time being he would play with his son until the child tired of him.

And if only he had known how quickly that would happen…They had barely left Arahaelon's bedchamber when his eyes caught the beautiful figure of his wife, wearing a long deep blue dress that sparkled with sapphires, walking in their direction, that bright warm smile ever present in her face. And in that little second he lost the attention of his son, the little elf running and throwing himself in his Nana's arms, begging to be carried.

"Tadion" He laughed as he reached his wife's side, placing a light kiss on her soft cheek before his eyes turned to meet the elfing's once more. "Let us go find your bow." He tried to sound excited about it but he already felt that pang of joyful jealousy as his son threw his arms tightly around Alarya's neck.

"No." And he was rejected. Tadion spoke casually, seeming to not give the matter second thoughts, still smiling as his eyes looked around him. Alarya's emerald eyes met his, and he could see his wife's knowing smirk gleaming brightly in them, almost apologetic.

"You do not want to play with Ada and your bow?" Alarya cooed the child in her arms, but they both already knew the answer: With Nana there, Ada was a secondary option. But he did not blame the child…he too wanted to spend every single second available with her.

"Later." Tadion shook his little head, chirping voice once again carefree, and he gave up on the matter. "Nana read me story?"

Resigning himself to the fact that his son had once again lost all interest in him, the King of Mirkwood placed a quick kiss on both Tadion's and Alarya's cheek before retiring to his duties. But with his youngest son it was constantly like that, his precious sunrise as ungraspable as his name, always there, bright and warm before all too soon slipping away through his fingers.

But still he would treasure every single moment, every single one of those fading seconds when his son's bright eyes would turn in his direction, whenever he would want his attention, his presence. And so he was also not surprised when he barely caught his son's attention at all the following day, the later once more running around the Palace and away from Alarya and his maids, even if he did not miss the mismatched set of shirt and leggings that his son wore, the shirt pulled up the wrong side out. The child had once again insisted on dressing himself.

The only thing that registered in his attention was that oddly enough, by mid-morning thigs appeared suspiciously….quiet, as he existed the large bedchamber he shared with Alarya. And he very well knew that silence with Tadion never meant anything good.

A door closed, the silent sound echoing loudly in the empty corridor. And he immediately knew which door, picking up exactly from which side of the hall the noise came, already walking in that direction with long strides, his deep green robes trailing deafly behind him.

"Tadion." He called in a gentle warning as his hand reached for the golden doorknob of his firstborn son's chambers, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sudden unmistakable sound of glass rolling over a surface, water splashing around.

He pushed the door open in a single quick move, his eyes widening immediately at what he saw. His youngest son stood precariously on the ornate chair by the desk, small palms pressed to the desks oaken surface, as if catching himself from a fall, but it was not that which made his heart skip a beat. There, on the polished surface of the elegant desk a small glass lay on its side, the water it had previously contained pooling and spreading over a beautifully depicted picture, the delicate charcoal marks disappearing and smudging as the liquid touched them, pooling and smearing into a single mess of grey. The drawing was ruined. And there would nothing anyone could to fix it.

It took him a second to react, quickly walking over to his son and lifting him from where he stood on the chair so that he would not fall, placing him on the floor as his eyes quickly scanned the elfling for any sight of injury of bruise that might have happened.

"Did you hurt yourself?" He asked almost too quickly, knowing that whatever had happened had been an accident, but he would still need to talk to his son about it.

Tadion only shook his little head slowly from side to side, no words coming out of his mouth, his large eyes still fixed on the wet and ruined drawing still laying on the desk, his heart breaking at the heart wrenching devastated and guilty expression in those ever bright large eyes. His little body was shaking and he could see his bottom lip trembling as fat silver tears started to slowly roll down his rosy cheeks, the child finally realizing what had happened.

"Tadion." He spoke firmly yet softly, gently hand pulling his son's little chin up to look into his eyes as he kneeled in front of him. "What were you doing here? I asked you yesterday to not touch your brother's drawing."

He spoke softly, emphasizing every word and making sure the child was listening as tears continued to roll down his son's soft cheeks, sniffing loudly. Tadion looked miserable, regretful eyes looking up at him in manner that made his heart sink, and he knew the child had meant no harm, but the damage was done, and it could have bene prevented. His son did not answer, only sobbing silently in return.

"Tadion, answer me." He repeated in that same soft yet firm tone. "You knew not to touch the drawing. Your brother asked you many times not to touch him, I heard him do so. And I have told you many times to not come picking at your brother's things without permission."

"I wanted to see it." Sad blue eyes turned to glance at the floor between sniffs, and he knew the elfling was sorry, even if that did not fully excuse him form disobeying orders. His heart clenched tightly in his chest, knowing that the innocent accident would result in not one but two of his sons being hurt. Arahaelon had worked on that drawings for hours, many nights.

"You could have asked me, and I would have brought you to see it. Or you could have asked your Nana. And more than anything, you knew not to come especially if you were drinking something." He pointed out, knowing that the glass slipping from the child's hands had bene an accident, but he too had been warned against that. This was not the first time that Tadion had accidentally spilled water or even juice sometimes over Arahaelon's or Lossenel's things, but this time the item in question would not merely dry.

"I did not mean to." The elfling sobbed, and he let his hand gently wipe away those fat devastated tears.

"I know that, my son." He comforted, picking up the crying child and cradling against him. "But you should have listened to me and you should have listened to your brother."

"Ar will be mad." The child sniffed as he buried his face on his shoulder, his father's hands rubbing gentle circles on his hand.

"Yes, he will." The was no point in denying that. Of course Arahaelon would be angry, he had every right to be, even if he knew his eldest son would not lash out at the child. And what a timing did the child have. He knew his eldest son would be arriving at the Palace within the next half an hour, if not by now, if only the child had waited for his brother to return before sneaking in to see the drawing. He knew Arahaelon would have shown it to him.

"I am sorry." His son's inconsolable voice was muffled by his robes, and he let out a sigh.

"I am not the one you need to apologize to, little one." He spoke just as he heard the door being gently pushed open once more, his eyes turning in time to find his wife's emerald ones as she entered the piece, most probably having heard their voices from outside.

Alarya looked confused for a second, her eyes darting from her husband to her youngest son, realization suddenly downing on those forest green orbs as her eyes landed on the messy wet splash that used to be a perfectly depicted picture. The Queen sighed silently as she stepped into the room, her eyes studying the ruined drawing as if trying to figure out a way to fix the damage, but there was nothing to be done.

"Arahaelon is here." Her voice was low as she spoke, smiling sadly up at him, sharing the news that she must have come to give, clearly not having expected what she would find. "I saw the patrol dismounting on the courtyard, he will be up here soon."

"There is nothing…?" He asked in a low voice, even if he knew the answer, Tadion only crying louder at the mention of his brother. And still Alarya only smiled sadly at him once more, her eyes carefully scanning the wet and smeared drawing once more.

"No. There is nothing to be done." He sighed at her words, knowing that disaster was only approaching.

"Thranduil?" His head turned back to glance at his wife at the mention of his name, only to find her concerned eyes looking directly at his as her careful fingers moved the corner of the wet paper, and his heart sank once more. There were more drawings. They have been neatly placed underneath his later one, but as he counted along with Alarya he found that there had been a total of four drawings all with different degrees or ruin now. He had replaced many of Arahaelon's things over the years whenever Tadion accidentally broke them but the drawings….there drawings were something nobody could replace.

And then, as if to prove that the situation would not get any better he heard the sound of light footsteps reaching the still open door, his eldest son stopping for a second at the doorway, still wearing his deep green traveling cloak neatly over his shoulders.

"I heard crying, is everyth….." Arahaelon's words died as his emerald eyes fell on the obvious mess over the desk, eyes widening in a painful combination of surprise, anger and hurt, piercing sharp suddenly flying to land of the elfling still in the Kings arms, immediately picking up on what had happened.

"Tadion!" it hurt to see the pained look in his eldest son's eyes as he suddenly exclaimed in accusation, and even though he did not raise his voice the deep edge of frustration in it let him know that things were about to go crashing down.

"Ar…." He heard Alarya sighing sorrowfully, trying to gain her son's attention but to no avail. In his arms the elfling cried all the louder, tiny arms tightening so strongly around his neck that he thought he was about to be choked. "It was an accident."

"I asked you not to touch them!" Arahaelon was not listening to his mother, his hands quickly snatching the wet drawings from the desk, eyes seeming to be scanning them all, looking from ruined paper to ruined paper, as if he could not believe his sight. And then, in a single move of frustration and pained anger, a move so unlike his ever patient and gentle son, Arahaleon crushed the wet papers in one messy ball, throwing them all together in the silver bin sitting by the desks' legs.

The King's eyes met his wife's for a second, speaking and understanding in that exchange of looks that there would be no fixing the situation in the immediate future, with one son sobbing uncontrollably and the other furious and hurt. Instead, exchanging one last glance with Alarya, the Elvenking walked out of the room, silently taking the sobbing child with him, his wife staying no doubt in an effort to try to talk to her eldest son.

And it seemed like an eternity before his inconsolable son finally succumbed to his exhaustion, crying himself to sleep as his father rocked him gently on a comfortable chair in his chambers. He supposed he still needed to talk to Tadion about what had happened, but the matter could wait until the morning. But that did not make the situation any easier. Tadion was still so little, merely an elfling, of course there would be accidents, of course he would make mistakes. He kenw the child felt awful about the accident, he knew Tadion regretted his actions, and there had not been any ill intentions in them. But Tadion did not _listen_.

He suspected Alarya would not be having an easier time. Arahaelon was rarely angered, and when he was he usually had a good reason to be, but it was when he became most difficult to talk to. He knew his son would not talk, would instead just instead to being left alone. And still this time he could not merely demand Arahaelon to forgive his brother under the premise of him being older and wiser than the young child. He already demanded so much of him, with all the Council's and other meetings, burdens, and duties that because of the difference in title Tadion would never need to face. So much was already expected of his eldest son that it was easy to forget that Arahaelon too was young.

But the crushing feeling did not fade away the day after that, nor the following one, watching – and sometimes having to intervene- at the remaining conflict between the brothers. Tadion had tried many things to make up for it, some of which included drawing a painting of his own to replace the ruined ones –very messy and very unlike what his brother's drawings looked like-, or even attempting to gift Arahaelon some of his toys, of which he saw a couple of wooden warriors, a very used and battered flute and even a stuffed bird. And even though his eldest son never one raised his voice or was openly hostile, he did not accept any of the offered items.

And so came the afternoon, two days after the incident, when his family enjoyed a few peaceful moments in the ample Family Sitting Room, the golden sun glistening over the polished marble floor and washing over the many bookshelves pressed against the walls. He could see both of his sons from over the pile of reports he was currently reading, his youngest one seeming momentarily entertained with the army of wooden warriors that laid spread on the floor around him.

"You can have this one." He heard Tadion speak as his little hand offered a beaten wooden archer to his eldest brother, the later shaking his head silently and motioning with a hand for Tadion to keep his toy.

"How about this one?" The child had quickly dropped the first warrior now picking a less beaten swordsman.

"No, Tadion." Came Arahaelon's calmed, no longer angered yet not too happy reply, once again softly rejecting the toy before once more concentrating the book he had been reading. "I do not want your toys."

"Then what do you want?" The elfling finally asked seeming to be giving up in guessing how he could possibly replace the ruined drawings, his eldest son giving him a half-hearted sad smile before nothing.

"Nothing." Arahaelon replied as he stood up from the couch, closing the book he had just finished reading and walking out of the large Sitting Room, no doubt to retrieve a new book from his chambers.

"Take me riding! I want to go riding!" The elfling demanded happily as he extended his arms at his eldest brother, seeming determined to find any sort of activity that might make the latter forgive him and forget the incident.

"I do not want to go riding." Came the gentle reply, Arahaelon once again turning around and this time managing to leave the room without being stopped once more.

And still Tadion's large saddened eyes followed his brother's retreating back, looking at first devastated, then adorably angry and frustrated as his little arms fumbled to cross tightly over his chest as the door closed, sticking his tongue out as far as it would go.

"Tadion." He scolded gently, trying not to laugh at the adorable expression. "What have I told you about sticking your tongue at anyone?"

"But Ar is still mad at me!" The elfling complained from where he sat among the mess of wooden warriors, stretching his little arms to his sides as if to give emphasis to his frustration.

Sighing, the King of Mirkwood lowered the reports he had bene reading onto a small side table, glancing softly yet knowingly at his youngest son. He opened his arms in an inviting gesture, and the elfling wasted no time before running in his direction and climbing on his lap, Alarya looking up with a smile from where she had been dozing on and off on her seat.

"It does not matter the situation; you should not stick your tongue at anyone." He repeated, even though he had long ago lost his scolding tone.

"But Ar will not forgive me!" His young son complained once more, and he could see the heartbreaking sadness lingering in those frustrated pleading large blue eyes.

And then, it occurred to him that Tadion might have forgotten something so basic, yet so important than gifts and replacements for his brother. Arahaelon did not want his drawings replaced, nothing could replace them. He did not want Tadion's toys, yet the child kept insisting, attempting to win his brother's forgiveness the wrong way.

"Tadion." He spoke again, his eyes firmly yet gently looking into his son's and for the first time he felt in one of those odd moments in which he completely had the child's attention. "Have you asked him to forgive you? Have you apologized to him?"

Clear blue eyes widened in realization, a new understanding suddenly weaving on those infinite warm oceans. Taidon had everything – just as any of his children- as many toys as he wished, stuffed animals, crayons, books, and more, and he guessed it was partially his fault for having fixed everything in past by merely replacing any item of Arahaelon's or Lossenel's that Tadion might have accidentally damaged.

"If you want his forgiveness, you only need to ask. Just like I have told you to ask your siblings before taking their things, you cannot demand forgiveness without asking and apologizing. I am sure he wants nothing more." And that was it, so simple, yet perhaps one the hardest things to realize for an elfling as prideful and teasing as his joyful ever smiling son. There would be many things that he would not be able to fix with material replacing, and there would be many mistakes, many accidents, many confrontations to come in Tadion's life as he grew older, all he needed to know was that his son was aware that he needed to consider others too, that he could not demand for things and assume he would get everything, and sometimes it was as simple as asking.

The elfling's eyes looked up at the sound of the large pair of wooden doors gently opening once more, and he lifted his eyes to find his eldest brother returning now carrying a new book, absently returning to sit on the couch. And still, Tadion merely snuggled closer to his chest, as if finally knowing what he needed to do yet finding it that it did not make the situation easier. But of course it would not be easier. There was nothing easy in the humbling act of admitting to having acted wrongly.

And yet he did not need to nudge or encourage his son, for only a couple of second later the elfling was quietly climbing down from his lap, eyes looking at his feet as he slowly approached his brother, the latter not even having noticed.

"Ar?" Tadion's voice was quiet, eyes still looking at his feet as he stopped right in front of Arahaelon's sitting form.

"Yes?" it was perhaps the uncharacteristic lack of mischief in the young elf's tone what made the Crown Prince suddenly look up from his book, suddenly concerned eyes fixing on the little elfling.

Slowly, the child looked up, large sincere eyes meeting his brother's emerald ones for a long moment, as if gathering himself before he spoke, never once breaking the eye contact.

"I am sorry I accidentally messed your drawings. I did not mean to and I know you worked on them very hard." And there was a heart swelling deep honesty in the little voice that would have humbled many grown elves. "Will you forgive me?"

And he knew that was it, a warm smile drawing on his face at the faint yet equally honest smile that appeared on his eldest son's face, whatever lingering anger that might have still been bothering suddenly dissipating.

"I forgive you. But next time just ask me and I will show you the drawings." And the look in Tadion's eyes could not compare even to a child who might have just received every single toy in Arda.

There so many things that could be so simply fixed, and so many who failed to notice.

 **Hi there! This a short piece I have been trying here, mostly exploring Tadion's character, so here is a little surprise for any Tadion lovers that might exist out there! It was important to include Arahaelon and the relationship between the brothers as Tadion has never known what it is like to be an only child so the relationship he has with his brothers helps to shape his character as much as the one he has with his parents. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading it! It was definitely fun to write it! Hopefully it might also be added to Greenwood the Great in later chapters!**

 **Love,**

 **Elena**


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